


you breathe in when i exhale

by torchsong (brella)



Series: Sportsfest 2018 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Crush, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 09:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15140633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brella/pseuds/torchsong
Summary: "You eat too fast," Tsukishima says with a trepidatious look on his face. "It's gross."





	you breathe in when i exhale

**Author's Note:**

> For Sportsfest 2018 Bonus Round 1: Time and Place. 
> 
> Prompt:  
> TIME: at sunset  
> PLACE: the middle of the road

"You eat too fast," Tsukishima says with a trepidatious look on his face. "It's gross."

Tobio finishes his pork bun: one bite, two. The steam from the filling mingles with his breath in the winter air, tinted red by the setting sun. Everyone still inside Sakanoshita is yelling, clamoring for their share of buns, and there's very little chance that Ukai will allow the commotion to continue for much longer, so Tobio has strategically retreated to the street. Which is where Tsukishima has also strategically retreated, and seems to have decided that how Tobio eats things is his business, all of a sudden. 

Tobio does not reply. He is growing, or trying to. Sugawara had told him only the week before that if he always lets Tsukishima rile him up, he will not have as much energy for volleyball. This had affected Tobio deeply. Volleyball is the most important thing in the world, he thinks, and he would never let anything take precedence, least of all Tsukishima, who, he notices now, offhandedly, seems to have gotten shorter, or maybe that’s just because cold weather always makes him hunch over like an old person.

Tobio wishes he had another pork bun. Maybe he had eaten that one too fast after all. 

He looks out over the street, which has been so thoroughly blanketed in snow that it’s been blocked off to cars, so he and Tsukishima are able to stand in the middle of it without fear of getting run over, although Tobio maybe wouldn’t mind if Tsukishima got run over. The clouds that had brought the two-day blizzard have parted for the time being, and the sky is clear enough that the sunset is visible, its bold colors contrasting vividly with the undisturbed white of the snow-laden rooftops. 

Tsukishima’s scarf is blue, and it is also very large. It’s Kitaichi-blue, almost, but Tobio is not going to say that out loud. The red from the sunset has gotten into his hair, too, almost igniting it. Tobio really wishes he had another pork bun. 

“What are you staring at?” Tsukishima grumbles. 

“Your hair,” Tobio says automatically. 

Tsukishima’s glasses are catching the sun’s glare, but Tobio can still tell that he narrows his eyes. He has learned to feel that expression. 

“Hah?” Tsukishima says slowly, like it’s a threat. 

“Muh,” Tobio sputters. “Moron. I didn’t say anything.” 

He still can’t see Tsukishima’s eyes, but he knows that Tsukishima is still staring at him. Maybe Tsukishima hasn’t even blinked; the intent is almost palpable, but thoroughly inexplicable. Tobio crams his hands into the pockets of his coat, and Tsukishima, in his Kitaichi blue and his illuminated hair, is still, still staring at him. 

Tobio wills the shop door to open, wills a car to somehow be on the road, wills the sky to fall down. He wills a volleyball to materialize in his hands, so that he can hit something, preferably in the direction of Tsukishima’s horrible, cold-pink face. None of these things happen; whatever Tsukishima insists on believing, he is no king, and things like this, things without a corner to aim for or a net to stand behind, rarely go the way he wants them to. 

Some of Tsukishima’s breath slips beyond his scarf, gathering in the air between them and dissipating. Tobio is not an abstract thinker by any means, but he swears that the atmosphere has changed—but maybe that’s what happens when Tsukishima’s mind is working something out, making a decision. Tsukishima looks and seems nice thinking. Strong, in ways—in many ways. This, Tobio will never admit. 

In the street, in the snow, Tsukishima goes on breathing and thinking. Tobio does not consume this too fast. He waits for the sun to go down.


End file.
